


eccentric

by englishbooty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, POV Second Person, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishbooty/pseuds/englishbooty
Summary: Prince Dirk Strider is a sinner, and it's Sir Jake English's job to help him find his way back to God with the power of friendship and hope, that is, if he doesn't get sucked into the sin himself.





	eccentric

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: englishbooty
> 
> Please add me because I have like two active followers. Also, please excuse the profile, I dunno how to make it pretty on my phone. ◠‿◠

“You don't have to watch me like a nanny, yknow. It's not like I can leave. The door is locked and everything.”

You start laughing, but quickly correct yourself, turning it into a cough. An outcast royal is still a royal nonetheless, and you must maintain your manners, like your grandma would want. “Right!” You say with an amused smile. “I've heard of that eccentric, intelligent mind of yours, Prince Strider. Your father said to keep full guard. No dalliance nor snoozing from me! No, siree!”

You hear a scoff from the other side of the wooden door. “Eccentric.” The prince parrots, and you nod, though he can't see, not knowing how else to respond. “Is that what my father calls me? I didn't know he got so polite in my absence.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. “My prince, you cannot speak of your father in that way! He is a most caring man and a very good king.”

“Caring, my ass. I wouldn’t be in here if he was so caring.” He grumbles, and you flinch a bit at a small thud on the door. He must've thrown something at it or something. 

“I'm sure… he…,” you look for a sentence to use in defense of your king, but you find none. You know too little about the situation to say anything in response to that, so you just clear your throat. “Why are you in here?” You ask before you can stop yourself, flushing afterward. 

“That's none of your business.” The prince says from the other side. It’s quiet then for a minute, before he begins again with, “Didn't my father tell you?”

“Nope! Not really. He replied just about the same as you when I asked.” You try to seem confident, and you say your words cheerfully, just like your grandma always used to say you should. “Just said that you were eccentric and needed to learn more about your duties and values before being able to return to the royal family and the castle. And that I need to keep you from leaving before figuring yourself out, and the like.” You're not sure if you should tell him all that, but oh well. What's he going to do?

“Ah.” It’s quiet again after that, and you take the moment of peace to look around at what's going to be your spot for… some amount of time, though who can really say how much.

You currently stand inside of a tower, with Dirk’s room behind you and a staircase leading out of the tower room and down into the servant’s part of the castle to the right and in front of you. The smooth rock around you is cold to the touch due to no fire being in your area, the closest one in Dirk’s room locked off, but both luckily and unluckily for you, the heavy armor that the King insists you wear keeps you quite warm in the slightly chilly weather. So warm, in fact, that you have to keep a towel on your person at all times in order to wipe away the persistent beads of sweat that keep popping up on your exposed neck and forehead. 

You sigh, awfully bored. The only person you're able to talk to up here is Dirk when he feels like it and isn't busy doing… whatever it is that he does in there, and the only other guard for Dirk that you could possibly talk to stands outside, in the garden behind the servant’s quarters, in case Dirk decides to try and climb out his window, so sometimes you feel as if you're the one being punished and put into solitude, and not Dirk. Well, not sometimes. This is your first day, but you've been feeling like that all day, and it's been at least six hours. You really don't know if you can do this, but no, you have to. You must do it for John, your little brother. This isn't hard work. It's just dull work. You can handle dull work!

Except that you can't. You were born with excess energy and a need for adventure and exercise. You thought becoming a knight would bring you both, not this. Not sitting around guarding a door of a prince who likely wouldn't even know if you left. 

You move your hand up to rub at the back of your neck, the armor moving loudly with you. 

“Didn't you think to bring anything to do?” The prince asks, making you flinch and the metal armor creak. “You sound awfully bored out there, man.” 

“I- I'm not allowed! That's a distraction. I'm supposed to stand here. That's all.”

He sighs. “Dying of boredom and getting lost in your thoughts is just as distracting as doodling or sewing or whatever the hell you do to occupy yourself.”

You really can't argue with that. It's very true. “I don't- I don't have such hobbies. Mine are more physical.”

“Oh?” 

You smile a bit, leaning back on the wall and staring up at the chair and table directly in front of you, to the left of the staircase. You always bump into it when you try to walk past, there's really not much room in your area. The table has a little candle on it that is almost out of spark. You'll have to call for another one soon, since the only other traces of light are down the staircase and under Prince Dirk’s door. 

“I adore fisticuffs, horse riding, and archery. Golly, is archery fun. Sort of a pity that I can't do it much anymore, but I used to practice quite a lot.” 

“If you'd like, you could open the door and use me as a target.”

“Wha-” You push back from the wall in shock, turning towards the door as if it were a person you must defend yourself to. “I could never-”

“It was a joke. Calm down.” 

What kind of joke is that?! You puff out your cheeks a bit, crossing your arms and causing the armor to clank again. “Not a funny one.” 

“Funny to me, but I've been told on numerous occasions that I have a rather dry sense of humor.”

“But- to joke about death is more than just dry, isn't it? It's really quite gloomy.”

“Wow, keen observation, English,” The prince laughs from behind the door, and your cheeks light up in embarrassment. “But, do you really think you could kill me so easily? You underestimate and insult the Strider name.”

“I never- well- I-” You stammer, and Prince Dirk calms down his laughter a bit, still talking with recovering, wheezing breath.

“Another joke, Jake. Stop worrying so much, god.”

“It's sort of my job to worry!”

“It's really not?” He snorts. “You don't- fuck, nevermind.”

“I don't what? I don't worry? I do, indeed-”

“No. That's not what I- just forget it, okay?” He heaves a deep sigh, and you heard another thud on the wooden door. This time, it's softer. 

You deflate at that, not wanting to argue pointlessly, but wanting to know what he meant. “What do you do?” You ask.

“What… do I do?”

“Yes, in your free time. Hobbies, and such?”

“Oh. Oh, okay. I-” He clears his throat. “I draw. I used to enjoy riding horses and sword fighting, but father won't let me do those two things in here, shockingly.”

You can't help but chuckle at the image of someone riding a horse around a normal sized room. You're then saddened that you don't know what the Prince looks like, having just moved here after your grandma died some time after the Prince had already been locked away. You're sure if you knew his face, it'd be funnier to picture him riding the horse indoors.

“He lets you draw in there, then?”

“All day. It's all I can really do except sulk and… study.” He chuckles out the word study, like it's not the word he actually means. An inside joke with himself, maybe? “No amount of studying can change… nevermind.” He says, and you pout.

“No amount of studying can change what?”

“Nuh-uh, English. That's a question reserved for a later time. I don't even know you yet.” 

You huff and pout more, even though you guess it's fair. You wouldn't tell him lots of personal stuff yet, either. Yet. You're likely to be his guard for a long time. Things change and lips become loose over time.

“Fine.” You speak like an upset child told to go play instead of bother their parents, “What do you draw, then?”

“Anything and everything.”

You pull your lips into a line, unsure of what to reply to that without being rude.

“Mainly people.” He speaks then, and you smile. 

“Really? Are you a secular artist or a religious one?” You ask, curiously, and he laughs for some reason.

“Secular.” He replies, and then after, you swear you hear him whisper ‘sexular’, but you pretend that you didn't.

“Could I see some of your artwork sometime?”

“Um-”

“I admit I may not be very well acquainted with the arts, but I can appreciate a good one, even if I don't get the.. erm, symbolism and such behind the piece!” 

“No.” He says, and you frown, sinking down the wall a bit. “Nothing against you. They're just… not for the public eye.”

You don't know how to interpret that. Your mind goes back to the whispered ‘sexular’ earlier, and you decide immediately to switch the subject. “Well- I- hello!” You are so delighted when you see a servant woman and possible new friend- Roxy Lalonde- coming up the stairs with a tray. Behind her, another servant woman and possible new friend- Jane Crocker- follows Roxy and carries another tray.

“Hello, Sir Jake!” She curtsies in greeting, and you bow. Roxy snorts and continues to walk. “We've brought you and Prince Dirk leek soup, soft bread, and cherry tarts! Along with a bit of ale.” Jane says, placing your tray on the little table and tutting at the candle before dismissing herself to get you a new one, but not before you thank her and Roxy with an appropriate bow and a courteous smile. 

You watch as Roxy places the tray on the floor by the wooden door and sits down by it. “Dirk?” She says, and you're a bit shocked that she decides to drop his title like that. “Are you there?” He doesn't respond, and she snorts. “You better be or else your leek soup is gonna be floor soup.”

“I'm here. I'm sitting right by the door, Roxy.”

“You better be.” She reaches into her very large bosom and pulls out a key. When she sees you watching her movements, she winks at you, and you immediately blush and look away, earning her laughter. “This new guard of yours is such a cutie, Dirky, too bad you can't see him. He's out here making me swoon with his good looks, and he was totally checking out my boobs.”

“I was not!” You say, shocked by her words, actions, and well, just her. She's so… brave.

“Mhm. You can't lie to Mama Roxy.” The naturally blonde girl tuts at you, waving her finger in a fake scolding way before finally getting back to work. She sticks her key inside a little latch and turns it, and a hatch for the food to go inside the room falls open. First, Roxy takes the used dishes, cup, and silverware from lunch from Prince Dirk, whom is wearing thin black gloves, and then she gives the new dinner set to him. When she’s done, she fist bumps Dirk for whatever reason- maybe a secret message- and then locks up the hatch again. 

When she's finally done, she stands and brushes off her skirts. “Another guard is coming to switch your place a bit after you eat.” She tells you, and you nod, knowing that. Your arrangement is for you to work from dawn to dusk, every day except for Sunday, when you go to pray at the chapel and visit your grandmother's grave. “The King would like to see you once you're finished switching shifts. He says to meet him in the throne room, and you'll go from there.” You must look awfully nervous then because her eyes fill with pity, and she squeezes your shoulder in sad compassion. “Don't fret. You haven't done anything wrong. He's likely just filling you in on things for the job.”

You nod, swallowing hard and bowing a bit. “T-Thank you-” You force a smile, and she sighs, patting your cheek before curtsying and dismissing herself to attend to more of her duties.

A few minutes later, Jane returns with four candles in her arms. You offer to help her, but she pushes you away with a giggle, saying that it's nothing that she can't handle. Too soon after her arrival, she also curtsies and dismisses herself to her other tasks, and you're left in the silence with your thoughts of what the King might want to speak to you about.

You barely touch the soup, not really caring for leaks, but you gobble down the bread and tarts like a starving boy because there's no one around to judge you, and you also down the ale, hoping that it'll take the edge off your worries.

Soon, but not soon enough, the new guard comes and takes your place, and you say goodbye to Dirk. He responds with a lazy goodbye in return, and you smile. It's the only thing he's said since he was talking to Roxy, and you're glad he didn't escape or choke to death or something.

You head down the stairs and to the main part of the castle, trying to ignore looks as you walk, but drastically failing, and in turn, growing more nervous. You don't know if they're looking at you because this armor is so damn loud, because you're a knight and they think you're cool, or because they know what exactly the Kings going to say to you.

When you open the doors to the throne room, you stand up straight and try to seem confident despite the worry tugging at your lungs and smile. “Your majesty,” You say once you've reached his throne, bending onto one knee and bowing before him as practiced many times in your childhood and training. 

“Sir Jake English, it's a pleasure to see you. Rise, we have much to discuss.”

“A-A pleasure to see you, as well, your majesty.” Damn your stutter! Damn your nervousness! You cannot be a knight and show weakness like this right in front of the King! 

You rise onto your slightly shaking legs and let out a slight wheeze at having to lift the heavy armor. 

King Broderick Strider nods, standing with a smirk and gesturing for you to follow him as he begins to leave out another exit. “Come, Sir Jake. Let us walk to a place where none can spy on private conversation.” He points his glare at a servant boy who stopped sweeping in the corner in order to watch the King and you speak. The servant flinches at the look and immediately averts his gaze and goes back to work, nervousness making his limbs shake much like yours, but even worse. The poor, young thing.

You follow after the King obediently, and the two of you walk in complete silence, excluding your noisy footsteps and armor. It's not until you reach the garden that the King begins to speak. “My son, Dirk, is eccentric.” He begins, “He doesn't fit in, and I'm afraid that despite being the oldest, he cannot inherit the crown, due to certain distasteful views and habits of his.” He sighs, rubbing his forehead and looking much like a tired, old man. “How was it today? How was he?”

“Oh-” You fluster, rubbing the back of your neck and worrying at your lip a bit. “It was- it was fine, your majesty. Dandy, even. He didn't try to escape once, and-”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I-”

“I won't be mad, Sir Jake.”

“Yes,” you smile nervously, losing your feigned confidence.

“About what? I must know what I need to tell you.”

“Hobbies, mostly. He said he liked to draw, ride horses, and sword fight. I told him my hobbies in turn. I forget what else we talked about, but it was barely anything. He stayed silent for most of the day.”

“Ah, so he didn't tell you why he's been… for lack of a better phrase, placed into a tower?”

“No, your majesty, he did not.”

“I'll tell you then. I know you're a man of religion yourself, Sir Jake, so I advise you to take a seat. When I found out what appalling things he did… I wish I would've been sitting down.”

You nod, sitting on a nicely carved bench and twiddling your thumbs anxiously. What could he have done? You certainly hope he didn't murder. He said views and habits, though, so… you have no idea.

“I refuse to go into detail.” He says. “But my son, Prince Dirk, if he deserves the title with the great sin he committed, had relations with… a man, a year or so ago.”

Your eyes go wide.

“I don't mean to frighten you, Sir Jake, but I feel as though I should tell you in case he…,” he shakes his head as if he could shake away the thought, “those sinners can play games with your mind. I'd hate to lose a good knight to them. They've already corrupted my son, and I don't want them to corrupt anyone else. I don't want my son to corrupt anyone else.”

He coughs then, and then continues as you listen without saying any words, “the doctors say he may be healed with God and women company. I send a new girl to him every week, but he never engages with them. I am afraid the Devil has already corrupted his mind too much, but I refuse to give up my son to him, and I will continue to fight until he's well.” He sighs. “The other man that he had the relations with was decapitated, but I couldn't do that to my eldest son. I hope you understand, despite your disgust, that it's hard to part with your own children, and I feel somewhat guilty for his corruption. Sometimes, I think that if I had been more engaged with him when he was a young boy… then he wouldn't crave other men’s company so much as to…,” he shudders. You nod.

“I apologize again, Sir Jake, and I understand if you'd like another position. This is a very complicated situation, especially for a good, Christian man.”

You bite your lip, not knowing what to do nor what to respond. This is your ticket out of that dull job. You could quit from it and become a real knight, but… what about John? You need to be there for him at night, at least. He can't solely be raised by his nanny. He needs his big brother there to teach him manly things! 

“I believe… that all sinners can be cleansed with enough hope and support.” You say, bowing your head and averting eye contact. “I am not frightened. He's only lost and in need of guidance, hope, and God.” You smile then. “So, I'll keep to my position, your majesty, and maybe… well… I don’t know..,”

“Do you think you could help him?”

“I could try! I'm no priest, but I was raised with God, and I'd be happy to attempt. Befriend him perhaps, and help him heal through friendship.”

“Perhaps that could work. Friendship. Through your friendship with him, he could build his relationship with God. This is a brilliant idea!” King Broderick exclaims, clapping you on the back hard enough for you to feel it through the armor, while he doesn't even flinch. “I must… I must do more for you in return. I could double your pay? Perhaps…,” he shrugs. “Whatever you wish. A favor. Anything.”

You think you're getting paid quite enough already. Enough to support John and pay his nanny, but you think maybe a favor could be useful? You never know when you may need a king’s assistance. “A favor, if I could? Whenever I need it, in case I ever do.” 

“Of course, Sir Jake English. I'd be happy to give you my assistance if you're ever in need. I'm sure it'd be nothing compared to what you're doing for me.” The king looks at you with sad eyes then. “Please, get my boy back. He doesn't know himself anymore. He's strayed too far from God’s light, and he's changed in result of it. I'm putting my trust in you, Sir English.”

You nod, smiling nervously at him then and shifting slightly on the bench. “Thank you,” you say, “I'll try my best to heal your son through friendship. I swear it.”

The two of you shake on it, and from then on, you're determined to become Dirk’s friend and get him to once again become one with God.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't attack me. 
> 
> Jake's a dynamic character. 
> 
> This is a love story during the medieval period where the Church controlled even the King. Some characters are homophobic, but that's how things were back then. It's what makes the story more interesting, I think.


End file.
